


tell me softly you love me too

by imthehomelander



Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Father Figures, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Memories, Post-Season/Series 02, Spice Girls References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29308389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthehomelander/pseuds/imthehomelander
Summary: “Happy?”Becca hummed against his shoulder. “Very.” They swayed together in a slow circle. “How about you? Was this the day you’d always dreamed of as a little boy?”Billy chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair. Her sister had spent over two hours that morning perfecting it, rolling it into gentle curls which now gathered at the nape of her neck, pinned in place with a fancy silver comb. “You bet. Ya couldn’t find a happier man on the face of the planet today.”
Relationships: Becca Butcher/Billy Butcher, Billy Butcher & Ryan Butcher | The Homelander's Son
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	tell me softly you love me too

_“I have to get ready for work, Billy.”_

_“No. Five more minutes. Just five. Please, love.”_

_Becca grinned, her eyes bright and blue in the low morning light pouring through the open window. “Okay, but then I_ really _have to get dressed.”_

_He looked her up and down. “I dunno. I think I prefer you like this.” He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, trailing down over her bare breast and down her stomach, listening to her hum with pleasure as she carded her fingers through his hair. “Maybe you should go in naked. See what they’d say.”_

_She laughed then, and Billy felt an overwhelming swell of love for her. “I’m pretty sure they’d just fire me. Actually,” she said, suppressing a giggle, “I don’t think I’d get as far as the entrance. Somebody would tackle me to the ground.”_

_Billy grinned back at her. “Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll tackle ya instead? I’ve only got all day.”_

_She pulled him down and kissed him, deep and gentle and not quite enough. “You’re filthy, y’know that? Filthy.”_

_“Yeah,” he muttered against her lips. “You still wouldn’t want me any other way.”_

_She pulled back and looked thoughtful for a moment before letting another smile touch the corners of her mouth. “I’d want you always.”_

* * *

“It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault y- you make sure he knows that. He’s good, he’s good… He’s good. You promise me you’ll keep him safe.” Billy’s hands cupped uselessly around her neck as the last of her blood pumped weakly through his fingers.

_There are no words. There are no words for this._

He looked into her eyes and watched the light fade away, and felt the world slip out from underneath him. Like one moment, his feet were firmly planted on the ground, and the next he’d been sent straight into orbit. There was nothing left to hold him to the planet anymore.

And yet, he could hear the little shit sniffling. Crying over his dead mother, the one he’d just murdered, and suddenly he was back on the forest floor with her. Her head rested limply on her shoulder and her blood coated his hands. It was getting cold and sticky and Billy wished more than anything that he could join her.

But there was business to be done first.

Without any conscious direction, one of his bloodied hands reached out and wrapped around the crowbar. The little shit was watching him, his eyes streaming tears onto his reddened cheeks, his nose leaking. He made no move to run, so Billy stood, his face contorted into something as monstrous as he felt inside.

His attention was drawn back to the fried bitch laying in the leaves when Homelander dropped to his knees in front of her. She whispered something to him, raising her stump of a limb, and he watched the blood-soaked Supe shift uncomfortably above her.

“Ryan? Did you do this?” There was a dangerous edge to his voice that sent a thrill of fear through Billy.

Ryan stopped crying with a sharp breath. The change was so sudden that it surprised even Billy, who glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, his voice thin and wet with tears. 

Homelander looked back at the charred figure on the ground, face unreadable, his glove squeaking as he tightened his fist. “Let’s go.” He shifted his darkened gaze back to the boy, trying to soften it into something fatherly as he stood. “Come here. Come.”

Ryan shifted his weight, the leaves at his feet crunching with the movement. Billy could barely hear over the rush of blood in his ears, the raging thump of his heart in his chest. He watched the boy move in a wide circle around Homelander, each step taking him closer to death by crowbar. And yet, Billy found that he was no longer angry at the kid- at least, not with this _monster_ standing ten feet away. He felt his boiling rage melt away just as quickly as it had surfaced.

“Come here,” Homelander said, voice sharper than the blade of a knife and twice as deadly.

Billy felt a rush of that protective instinct, the same one that he’d felt for Lenny so long ago, for Becca, even for Hughie, and knew instantly what he had to do. He’d promised, after all.

“No.”

* * *

_Billy set the bowl of popcorn on the table, along with Becca’s drink- diet cola with lime, just the way she liked it- before flopping onto the couch beside her. She had the remote in hand, toying with the soft buttons, her brow creased slightly as she concentrated._

_Billy cleared his throat. “What are we watching tonight, love?”_

_She looked up at him, startled. “Sorry,” she said, handing him the remote, a smirk touching the corners of her mouth. “How about… ‘Giving You Everyth-”_

_“No! Not again. Shithead.” He watched her smirk break into a full grin. “Why don’t we watch a nice Katelyn Heigl movie instead? ‘20-something Dresses’ or whatever it’s called? Or we could skip the movie and just get straight ta the sex.” He raised an eyebrow at her, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth and ignoring the gentle punch she aimed at his shoulder._

_She rose from the couch, stepping around the stained coffee table to stand in front of the TV surround. Billy sat back, appreciating the view as she browsed their DVD collection, jumping from shelf to shelf, occasionally picking one out to read the back of it before returning it. He grabbed another handful of popcorn and put them one piece at a time into his mouth. “How about… ‘Ghosts of Girlfriends Past’?” She turned to show him the case, a hopeful smile on her face._

_“Pass,” he said, picking up the bowl of popcorn and throwing a piece in her direction, watching it bounce off of her forehead._

_“Billy!”_

_“What about,” he said, popping another few pieces into his mouth, “that Brent Pitt movie, with the Nazis?”_

_“‘Inglorious Basterds’? And it’s Brad, how do you not know these things?” She turned back to the TV surround, looking for the movie, and Billy took the opportunity to throw another handful of popcorn at her. “Quit it, you little shit. I can feel that.”_

_Billy huffed. “Feel what?” he said, injecting as much innocence into his voice as possible._

_Becca only sighed, popping the disc into the player and sitting back on the couch. “You’re gonna clean that up later, right? I’m not.”_

_“I’ll get Terror on it.”_

_“You’re impossible.” Becca lunged towards the bowl of popcorn, which only served to knock half of it onto the floor as Billy tried to dodge the attack. Terror, sensing something was up, flounced into the room and helped himself to the discarded popcorn. Becca shook her head and turned back to Billy. “So, work is having this big Christmas party next week- my boss wants me to go and shake hands and kiss ass, just for an hour or so. Will you come with me?”_

_Billy raised an eyebrow again. “You want_ me _to come to yer_ company _Christmas party?”_

 _“Yeees,” she said, pressing play on the movie. “Why_ wouldn’t _I want you there? You’re my husband, remember?”_

_Billy considered this for a few minutes, eating what was left of the popcorn. On the screen, a French man began chipping away at a tree stump. “Is that poncy cock gonna be there?”_

_“Homelander?” Becca said, smiling. She reached into the bowl and took a handful. “Probably. He’s not so bad though. I’ve spoken to him a few times- he seems pretty nice.”_

_“He looks like a right cocksucker.”_

_Becca swatted his arm. “Leave the man alone. Will you come, or not?”_

_“Awright. I’ll go, just as long as I don’t gotta kiss anyone’s ass, especially not that flouncy fuck and his ridiculous cape… well, ‘cept maybe yours, of course.” He gave her a wink. On the screen, a German man donning a long coat and a reptilian smile stepped up to the Frenchman and shook his hand._

_She gave him a long-suffering sigh, but mixed with her smile, she just looked fond. “You’re a filthy, disgusting man, and I don’t know why I married you.”_

_“You wouldn’t have me any other way, don’t kid yerself,” he replied, trying to hide his displeasure with the now-cold popcorn._

_She rolled her eyes, but her smile was still soft. “I’d have you always, moron.”_

_“I know. And I’d have you on this couch right now, if you’d let me,” he said, grinning. “Y’know what… there’s a can of whipped cream in the fridge. I bet it’d look great on your tits.”_

_Becca aimed another punch at him as he jumped off the couch._

* * *

“I can’t take him back to my flat, Mallory. Homelander’ll know where I live by now.”

_“Well, what do you propose we do, then? Because I have nothing right now.”_

Billy took the phone from his ear, pressing it to his jacket and taking a deep breath. “You can’t do nothin’? Got _nowhere_ for ‘im to go?”

Mallory sighed. _“No, William. Like I told you before, I’m just a civilian now. I can’t call in an armada of guards now, not instantly anyway. Look, I’ll pull some favors and see what I can do. But you and Ryan need to lie low for a few days- I mean it. Find somewhere, stay there. Don’t call anyone. Just text me your location and we’ll organize something in a few days.”_ She was silent for a few moments. _“Do you think you can survive that long?”_

“Don’t think it’s my survival you’re worried about there, Grace. The kid’ll be fine, awright? I won’t lay a finger on ‘im. I promised.”

Grace was quiet again. _“Well, I hope you’re a man of your word, Billy, because I don’t want to cash in these favors just for you to murder the boy before we can get him. Get a new phone and call my secure line. Then_ lie low. _If he finds you, he’ll kill you, no matter what Maeve threatened him with._ ”

The line beeped as she hung up.

“Thanks a lot.” Billy turned back, walking across the freshly cut grass to the bench he’d left Ryan on. The kid was staring at his shoes, as if at any moment the laces might come alive and strangle him. He barely reacted to Billy’s approach. “Alright, kid. You and I are on the road again.”

Ryan didn’t respond beyond kicking one of his shoes deeper into the dirt at his feet. The soles were covered in mud from their frantic run through the woods, and there were flecks of half-dried blood on the canvas. Billy sighed and hooked underneath one of his arms, dragging him onto his feet. The boy didn’t protest, but wasn’t helpful either.

“Let’s go, Ryan. We can’t stay ‘ere.”

“I killed my mom.”

Billy shook his head, placing a hand gently on Ryan’s shoulder, ignoring the way he tensed underneath it. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Accidents happen sometimes, and sometimes people get hurt. You can’t beat yourself up for it. Your mum wouldna wanted that for ya.”

Ryan’s gaze snapped up to meet Billy’s, his eyes blazing red just like they had in the forest. “You don’t know that. You don’t know _anything_ about my mom!”

Billy slowly took his hand back, and the light faded from Ryan’s eyes again. “I knew your mum better than you might think. She was my wife. We were married a long time before you were born.”

Ryan shook his head, dropping his eyes back to his shoes. “That was a long time ago.”

“Alright,” Billy said. “What if you come with me, and we can talk? I’ll tell you everything I know ‘bout ya mum, and you can tell me everything you know? Sounds fair to me.”

Ryan looked back up at him, wary. “You start.”

* * *

_She was undoubtedly beautiful, that much was clear. Even with his pounding headache and busted-up eye, Billy could see that about her. Her eyes were a deep sapphire blue, and her soft caramel hair fell in gentle waves down her back._

_She was sitting across the aisle from him, book in hand, and while he couldn’t see what it was, he could tell it was enthralling. Every so often, her eyes would widen slightly, or she’d gasp quietly. He found himself leaning forward in his seat, as enthralled with her as she was with the story in her hands. He didn’t realize how far he was leaning until she glanced up at him and gave him a hesitant smile._

_“Sorry,” he mumbled, ignoring the sharp jab of pain in his jaw as he spoke. “You look like yer enjoying that.”_

_She huffed a little breath. “I am.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, seeming to appraise him, before she stuck her hand out. “Becca.”_

_Billy gave her a grin and grasped her hand firmly, giving a decisive shake. It was even softer and warmer than he’d expected it to be. A gentle puff of her perfume wafted across the aisle- Billy thought it smelled like strawberries and cream. “Billy Butcher. Lovely to meet you, Miss Becca.”_

_“You’re looking a little worse for wear, Mr. Butcher. Did you get into a fight with a bus?”_

_Billy barked a laugh, ignoring the stares from the other commuters. “Nah. Just some rowdy cun- boys... at a bar. It’s, uh, pretty typical fer me.” He let her hand go and touched his cheek, wincing at the bruise forming there._

_“You’re English?”_

_Billy nodded, the grin creeping back on, and he played up his already-ridiculous accent even more when he spoke. “Yes, ma’am. ‘Ow could ya tell?”_

_She smiled at him, her eyes glinting mischievously. “Just a hunch.” She folded her book gently closed, silently noting the page number, before giving him that same calculated look from earlier. “What do you say we get lunch sometime, Billy? You can tell me all about those_ rowdy boys _that gave you those bruises.”_

_Billy stuck his hand back out and waited for her to take it again. “Sounds like a plan.”_

* * *

“Ya mum and I got married in ‘09. We had a wedding at a beach in California. I’ve got a photo, if ya wanna see one- here.” Billy shifted in his seat to pull his wallet out, and handed it to Ryan. “It’s at the back.”

Ryan flipped the tattered wallet open, looking at the photo sitting in the front of the clear window. Becca smiled at the camera, her eyes lit up as she laughed. She held a copy of _Spiceworld_ in her hand, proudly showing it off. “When was this?”

Billy smiled. “That was the first Christmas we spent together. I’d been stayin’ at her place a lot and she’d always play the Spice Girls- ya know ‘em?- and it shit me off. So I bought her one of their albums that year, a signed copy. She played it so much that the disc wore out.” Billy flicked on his blinker, changing lanes smoothly, and accelerated past the station wagon in front of them.

“Why’d you get it if you hate the music?”

“Because,” he said, glancing over at Ryan, who was running a cautious finger over the photo, “It was worth it to see ‘er happy. She loved the Spice Girls. Even though they’re fuckin’ awful singers, and she couldn’t dance to save her bloody life… she were happy.”

They were silent for a few minutes. Billy considered putting the radio on, and was just about to turn the dial, before Ryan spoke. “I don’t have any photos with her.”

“Your mum?”

Ryan nodded. “We didn’t take any. We had a camera- just for LEGO- but we never… why wouldn’t she take photos with me?” He looked up at Billy, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Ryan was crying. “Didn’t she love me?”

 _Shit_.

“No. No, that’s not it at all. She prob’ly… wasn’t allowed. Vought had ‘er by the throat, y’know? If she took a photo and it got out somehow… you’d both be in danger. From Vought, from your f- from Homelander, from who knows who else. Trust me, kid- if there’s one thing I know ‘bout yer mum, it’s that she loved ya. More than anything.”

“Really?”

Billy nodded. “More than me. And she was right to.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. “There’s a lotta things you don’t understand here, kid. One day ya might. All I want you to know is that your mum did the best she could, with what she had, y’know? And she didn’t have a lot no more.”

Ryan was silent for a few moments. He took the first photo out and slotted it into the back of the windowed pocket of the wallet. “What’s this one?”

“Describe it ta me.”

“She’s sitting at a table with another lady. Mom has a coffee and the other lady is rolling her eyes at whoever is taking the picture.”

The smile crept back onto Billy’s lips. “That’s your aunt. Yer mum’s sister, Rachel. I took that photo the mornin’ I met Rach. She came over for coffee with your mum and I’d been stayin’ the night more often than not by then.” Billy laughed, the long-lost memory returning to him. “She didn’t like me to start with, I’ll tell ya that much. Told Becca she could do better. I think she were prob’ly right.”

“You loved her, though.”

“Yeah.” His knuckles gripped the wheel harder. “That’s not all that bein’ married means, though. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is Rachel alive?”

“She’s alive, yeah. But, well… she don’t know you exist. And she thought Becca was dead too. So I dunno how we’re gonna tell her. Reckon she’ll kill me when I do, but.”

Billy heard him shuffle the second photo behind the first. He stayed quiet again for a long while. Billy moved to the right lane, exiting the highway and pulling onto a small side road. The glowing sign of a motel, blinking in the distance, grew closer.

“That’s from the day we got married,” he said, once the silence grew unbearable. “She were beautiful, weren’t she?”

“Yeah. I miss her.” Ryan sniffled loudly over the engine.

“Yeah.” Billy kept his eyes on the road, fighting against the ache emanating through his whole body from his chest. “You’n me both, kid.”

* * *

_“How long you been here for then, ay?” He watched her pull another lungful of smoke between her teeth, exhaling his own into the frigid air. They’d opened the tailgate to cool down, but now Billy could barely feel his toes. He pulled them back underneath the blanket Becca had found, and laughed at her displeasure when his cold feet touched her leg._

_“Since I gave birth,” she said, letting the smoke out with the words._

_He shook his head. “Fucking ‘ell. How you holdin’ up?”_

_“Yeah, y’know. You forget about reading the news, or going to a restaurant.” She leaned back further into his arms, letting her head drop onto his shoulder. “Smoking pot on the couch and eating Cheetos. I just act like, y’know, Carol-fucking-Brady all day. It's okay. Y’know. Ryan's happy and that's what matters. You're gonna like him. He's sweet, and very smart... and so kind. I know you hate kids and all, but I think-”_

Fuckin’ doubt it. Kid’s a little supe fucking freak, _he thought to himself._

_“Nah, nah, I don't. I don't hate kids. Just... not a very good role model, am I?”_

_Becca smiled, and Billy couldn’t help but notice the undercurrent of sadness in the look. “How’ve you been?”_

_He huffed a breath of air through his nose. “Ah, y’know, alright. Started a private security company. Y’know... weddings, bar mitzva-”_

_“Bullshit,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Homelander said you were ‘a man possessed’. Said you’ve been chasing after him for years.” She looked up at him, raising an eyebrow and daring him to challenge her._

_Billy swallowed the nervous lump in his throat. “Well, I thought ‘e killed ya, so yeah... I've been on a bit of a warpath. But on the bright side, I'm sleepin’ in a basement beneath a pawn shop in East Flatbush.” He gave her a bright smile, hoping she couldn’t see just how fake it was- but this was Becca, and if anybody could see through him, it was her._

_“I'm sorry. I never wanted that for you.”_

_“And what was I ‘sposed to do, hm?” He was surprised to find that familiar anger bubble through to the surface, and spent a few moments trying to get it under control again. “Let ‘im get away with it? What was I, before you? Nothing. You saved me. And here you've been, fuckin’ living in this shithole for all this time and I haven't been there for you. I'm gonna make it up to ya. I'm gonna make it up to ya from now until the day I die, I swear to god.”_

_And Billy could tell he’d said something wrong. They watched the sun slowly climb over the horizon together, but he knew that she’d pulled away from him, distanced herself. Even when they were pressed skin-to-skin together, some unknowable force held them at arms length. And when she got dressed and packed up the evidence of their night together, said goodbye to him, and drove off the way she came… somewhere deep inside, he knew that it would truly be the last time they were one._

_That was the worst truth of all._

* * *

The kid had fallen asleep hours ago. He lay on top of the duvet now, shoes kicked off next to the twin bed. Every now and then, he’d stir in his sleep, whispering something or choking a sob.

Billy sat on his own bed, and even though it had been over 30 hours since he’d last slept, he couldn’t wind down enough to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the only thing he could see was Becca’s face staring up at him from the forest floor, begging him to save her son’s life. He’d long since given up on the idea of rest, and instead toyed with the new phone he’d picked up from a convenience store. Wasn’t anything special, just an old touchscreen model a few years out of date.

He dialed Mallory’s secure line and waited through all the familiar beeps.

On the other end of the line, there was a rustling as Grace picked up her phone and pressed it to her ear. _“Mallory.”_

“Hey, lovely. It’s Butcher.”

He heard her sigh gently. _“You realize what time it is, right? Why are you calling me now, surely this could have waited until a proper hour?”_

“Yer here now, ain’t ya?” Billy said, ignoring the gentle wash of guilt that came over him. “I just need someone to lend an ear for a few minutes, that’s all.”

Grace was silent for a few moments, and Billy thought he heard her yawn. _“Whatever, William. Make it quick, I’d like to get back to my lovely dream. I was in a bakery in Par-”_

“Righ’.” Butcher cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. “So the kid- Ryan… how much should I be tellin’ him about his mum?”

 _“What has he asked you?_ _”_

Billy glanced over at Ryan’s sleeping form as he shifted in his sleep again, rolling over onto his stomach with a deep sigh. “Nothin’ much yet. Showed ‘im my photos of her that I got in me wallet. That’s about it.”

_“Well, don’t tell him that Homelander raped his mother. No kid wants to hear that.”_

“I’m not a psyc- I wasn’t gonna say that. I just wanna know how to talk to ‘im. He don’t trust me one lick, Grace.”

Grace was quiet for long enough that Billy considered just hanging up, suspecting that she’d fallen back asleep. His finger hovered over the button just as she spoke again. _“You’re asking me for parenting advice?”_

“No.” He curled a hand in the duvet, ignoring the flare of annoyance that bubbled through him. “I’m not his father. It’s just fer a few days, innit?”

 _“Almost sounds like you’re asking me for parenting advice. Regardless, Butcher, yes. Just a couple of days. I’m organizing somewhere for him to go where he’ll be safe.”_ She sighed again, resigned. _“Just talk to him. It’s not rocket science, Billy, really. Tell him about his mother. Play him some of her music. Get him a fucking pizza. Just talk. That’s all he needs right now, someone to talk to, okay? So just be there. Call me back in 24 hours.”_

The phone beeped again.

Billy dragged a hand over his face, groaning. Ryan stirred again, a small sob escaping his lips, and he bumped the curtains with his foot, sending a shaft of light from the blinking ‘VACANCY’ sign through the window.

For just a moment, he could almost see _her_ in that shape. If he looked hard, he could see past the features that screamed _Homelander_ and see his wife beneath. His hair was that golden shade of blond on top, but closer to the roots, the color changed to a soft caramel brown, with the slightest wavy texture. And even though they were shut now, his eyes were still _her_ blue, not _his._ Vivid and deep like sapphires. Nothing of his father showed there. 

Even his mannerisms were hers. The way he’d twist his hands when he was nervous or wanted to say something. The way he’d kick his feet into the ground when he was frustrated. The way he brushed his hair out of his face when it fell into his eyes. That was all her.

And even with all his rage, and guilt, and hatred, and grief, Billy couldn’t help but feel a tiny spark of gratitude. If the kid stayed safe, maybe not all was lost. 

A piece of her would always remain.

* * *

_“Happy?”_

_Becca hummed against his shoulder. “Very.” They swayed together in a slow circle. “How about you? Was this the day you’d always dreamed of as a little boy?”_

_Billy chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair. Her sister had spent over two hours that morning perfecting it, rolling it into gentle curls which now gathered at the nape of her neck, pinned in place with a fancy silver comb. “You bet. Ya couldn’t find a happier man on the face of the planet today.” He pulled back to look at her._

_She tightened her grip on his hand as he spun her halfway around. “Even without your parents here?”_

_“Love,” Billy said, a smile playing on his lips but not reaching his eyes, “You and I both know they’d ruin our day. Especially Sam. ‘Sides, I got Lenny here. You and him are the only family I need.” He glanced over at the table where his brother was sat, chatting up one of the bridesmaids, both of them clearly drunk. Lenny caught his eye and gave a wink that looked more like a heavy blink._

_“I was right, then. You were just holding out for this day. It’s been your lifelong dream to be here, dancing to Spice Girls songs wi-”_

_“Shut up,” he said, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You’re annoying.”_

_“Yeah,” Becca said, grinning, running her hand up the front of his suit jacket to curl her fingers into his hair, her smile widening at the noise he made. “You wouldn’t want me any other way, though.”_

_Billy pressed another kiss to her cheek. “Nah. I’d want you always.”_

* * *

“So, we can’t really go nowhere, but I figure it’s pretty safe to order a pizza. I got a menu from the desk. You got a favourite?”

Ryan hadn’t said a word all morning. When he’d woken up, sometime near midday, he’d just lain there listlessly. Every time Billy spoke, he’d draw his knees to his chest and bury his face in them, as if it could help him disappear.

“Right,” Billy said, picking up the menu and flicking it open. “I’m gonna just order a cheese, then. Hope that’s awright with ya.”

He kept an eye on the kid as he placed the order, and while he didn’t say anything, his grip on his knees relaxed ever so slightly. Billy ended the call and crossed the room to sit back in his own bed again.

“Why don’t you tell me about yer mum?”

Ryan was silent still, looking at Billy with obvious distrust. “Like what?” he said, his voice barely audible even in the pressing quiet of the room.

“Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “what’d you two do together? You said somethin’ about LEGO, didn’t ya?”

Ryan sat up, but kept his knees close to his chest and he scooted back to lean against the pane of the window beside his bed. “Yeah. We did movies that she liked.”

Billy nodded. “You recreated whole movies from LEGO?”

“No. Just the parts that she really liked. Like the wedding from ‘27 Dresses’. Have you seen that movie?” Ryan loosened his grip further, now just loosely cradling his knees in his arms. “The girl marries the guy on the beach, just like you did.”

Billy found that he could barely speak around the lump in his throat. “Yeah, I’ve seen it. She’d watch it all the bloody time. Katherine Heigl was one of ‘er favourites. She ever show you any of ‘Grey’s Anatomy’? That was one of her favourites, too. She’d always put it on when I were eatin’, cus she knew it grossed me out.”

Ryan laughed, and Billy felt the lump grow. He sounded _so much_ like her.

“She told me I could watch it when I got older. But it’s okay, I don’t like blood anyway.” He was quiet a moment longer, as if considering his next words. “Can you show me that music she had? The Spicy Girls?”

“The Spice Girls,” Billy said, and his laughter helped with the ache in his chest just a little. He opened the video player on his phone. “I can show you the album she had, or I can jus’ play the one we danced to at our wedding. That were the one she loved the most.”

“Okay. The wedding one.”

Billy found the video and turned the volume up on the phone as high as he could. The song played through the tinny speakers and filled up the room, and even though the quality was bad and the acoustics were even worse, he could tell that Ryan loved it. He closed his eyes and just listened deeply, and when the song ended, he opened them back up and Billy could see they were sparkling with tears.

Billy played the next song from the album, and after that the next. They sat there in companionable silence until their pizza came. Billy paid with cash and handed a generous tip to the driver, and they ate in that same comfortable quiet. And whenever he looked at the kid, it was easier for him to see Becca. Not just in the way he looked, but in the ways he moved, and spoke, and listened. The curious glint in his eye. And Billy realized that even when he’d thought her to be wrong, she’d been right. He _was_ sweet, and smart, and so very kind. 

Everything that he’d loved about her was something she’d nurtured in him.

* * *

_“Becca,_ please. _Please, love, talk to me.”_

_Becca stared at her hands, clasped together on the table in their dining room. She was absolutely still except for the short, shallow breaths she took. Her face was frozen in a tortured gaze, and every time Billy looked at her, a twist of terror gripped him. She hadn’t moved since he’d walked in through the door to find her there._

_“I can help ya, love. Just tell me what happened. I can protect you.”_

_She shook her head- a single movement, robotic, like she’d practiced it. “No,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’ll be okay, Billy.”_

_Billy felt a surge of anger bubble in his chest. “No, you won’t. Becca, ya have to talk to me.” He gripped her hands and squeezed them gently. “If someone did somethin’, Becca, if_ you _did some-”_

_“Nothing happened, Billy!” She wrested her hands from his grasp and folded them in her lap. “I’m taking a shower. Please don’t come in.” She pushed away from the table and walked into the bathroom, never once glancing back at him._

_She showered for over an hour that night. Billy sat at the table and waited, fuming. Every time he glanced at the bathroom door, a new wave of anger crashed over him, spiked through with love and concern and a burning hatred for whatever had hurt her so bad she couldn’t even talk about it._

She’s keepin’ something from me, _he thought._ Somethin’ terrible.

* * *

Ryan stayed up late the second night, not succumbing to sleep quite as easily as he had the evening before. They turned the TV on and watched the few shitty soaps that were playing, until Billy’s phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.

 _Call now,_ it said.  
He obliged, and dialed Mallory’s secure line again.

_“Hello, William. Is Ryan there?”_

Billy frowned. “O‘course he is. Ya wanna speak with him?”

_“If you don’t mind.”_

Billy handed the phone to Ryan, who was watching him curiously. He took it and pressed it against his ear a little awkwardly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. “Hello?”

Billy watched the one-sided conversation as Mallory told him whatever information she’d gathered. His face went from curious, to wary, to confused, and finally settled on annoyed before he handed the phone back to Billy and faced back to the TV.

“What’d you tell ‘im, then?”

_“I told him that we’ve found him a place for him to stay. I told him it’s just temporary, until we can work something better out, but that it’ll be more comfortable than whatever flea-infested place you’re in now. And safer, too- for everyone. I’m going to send through the address after this call. Meet us there at 4pm tomorrow, and we’ll take him off your hands.”_

Billy nodded. “Awright. And if anythin’ happens-”

_“Then call me. Goodbye, Butcher.”_

A few moments after she hung up, another text buzzed through from the same number. The park they were meeting at was only a few hours drive from the motel, thankfully, and shouldn’t give them much trouble at all. They’d need supplies for the day, but Billy remembered they’d passed a gas station just a few miles back.

Billy gathered himself and stood up, patting the pocket with the keys and his wallet. “Alright, Ryan. I’m gonna pop ta the store down the road and get us a f-”

“Am I gonna turn out like Homelander?”

“What?”

Ryan leveled him with a gaze that seemed far older than he was. “Am I going to grow up and be like Homelander? Hurting people for no reason and…”

“No,” he said, kneeling down to look Ryan in the eye. “No. You don’t have to be.”

“How can you be sure?”

Billy’s brow furrowed. “I guess I can’t. Nobody ever can. But ya just try, y’know, to be a good person. You do yer best. Mostly you just have to remember not to be a cunt. Which is why most people don’t like me, ‘cus I’m definitely one. So just… don’t be a cunt. That’s what’s important.”

Ryan considered this for a moment, before something in his expression softened and he was back to looking like the eight-year-old boy that he was. “Can I come with you? I want some ice-cream.”

* * *

_“Hi there, welcome to Tall and Dark! My name is Logan, and I’ll be your server today. Would you like to be seated inside or outside?”_

_Becca glanced at Billy, who shrugged. “Uh… outside? It’s a nice day.” The host nodded graciously and led them both to the back of the restaurant, which opened onto a little courtyard. A large tree grew from a garden in the center, shading the entire area and dappling it with green and yellow. Logan seated them and poured two glasses of water before returning inside._

_“Rach said this place does great brunch, she told me to get the mushroom sourdough.” Becca handed a menu to Billy, opening her own and finding the entry. “Ouch.”_

_“Twenty-seven fuckin’ dollars for some mushrooms and bread?” Billy looked across the table at Becca, who was trying to suppress her laughter. “Does your sister shit money or somethin’? Christ.”_

_Becca snorted, and looked around the courtyard to see if anyone had noticed. “Shut up, idiot. You know what she can be like. She spends more money than she has.” She looked up at him, her gaze thoughtful. “Maybe that’s why I like you so much- I’ve got a type.”_

_“Gross.”_

_She rolled her eyes. “Not like_ that _, you filthy man. I just mean she’s impulsive. Headstrong. Sometimes... careless. Remind you of anyone?”_

_Billy smiled. “Guil’y as charged, ma’am. I’m thinkin’ of gettin’ the double bacon cheeseburger. Yerself?” He quirked an eyebrow at her and watched her roll her eyes again._

_She looked back at the menu for a few moments. “Only_ you _would come to a nice café at 10 in the morning and order a fucking cheeseburger. They have breakfast food, y’know.” She folded her menu shut and slid it over to Billy. “I’ll get the full English.”_

_“Yes! I’ve turned ya to the dark side. If Lenny could see ya now…” Billy had to pick up his glass and take a few quick gulps, trying to breathe around the sudden lump in his throat. Becca placed her hand over his free one, intertwining her fingers between his. He averted his gaze, trying to ignore the stinging feeling in the corners of his eyes. “Sorry, love,” he said, his voice coarse._

_“Hey,” she said, and the sudden edge to her voice made him look up in surprise. “You’re allowed to be sad. And angry. And whatever else you want to be. Don’t let that asshole tell you anything different.”_

_She pulled her hand back as Logan walked back into the courtyard, escorting a family and seating them in the opposite corner. He caught her eye and crossed back over the uneven cobblestones to their table. “Are you lovely folks ready to order?”_

_Billy barely heard her place the order. His attention was on the group of people that had now sat down and were all looking at their own menus. The father was guiding his youngest son through, showing him the kids section and ruffling the boy’s hair when he said something too quiet for Billy to hear. The ache in his chest deepened when the father leaned over the table to kiss the mother on the cheek._

_Logan took the menus from Billy. “I’ll be back in just a few with your drinks.”_

_“Thanks!” Becca said, prompting a smile from the server. “Hey, did I tell y- are you okay?”_

_Billy focused back on her, giving her a weak smile. “Yeah, love. I just miss ‘im, y’know?” He glanced back at the table across the courtyard, where the kids were all coloring in placemats with broken crayons. “I’m not ever gonna be like_ him _when we have kids. I couldn’t do that to ‘em. Not after… well.”_

 _Becca followed his gaze to the family. She watched them in silence for a few moments before turning back to look Billy in the eye. “You’re not your father. You don’t have to be. Everything he did- everything he_ does _\- you don’t have to be like that, Billy. And trust me, I’ll kick your ass if you are.” She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “You know that what happened to Lenny wasn’t your fault, right?”_

_Billy gave her a twisted smile. “I’m not so sure o’ that.”_

_“Well,” she said, taking his hand in hers again, “It’s true. You did the best you could to protect him. Just… what your father did was too much to bear. That’s not your fault or his.”_

_His smile was more genuine now, even if the ache deepened. He turned her hand over in his, playing with the lines on her palm. “I jus’ wanted him to be happy, y’know? That’s all I ever wanted for ‘im.”_

_“He is. He is, now. And you can be, too. Maybe not right now, and that’s okay, but one day. I’ll be there right next to you.”_

* * *

They’d stopped at another gas station for Billy to fill up the car before they got to the rendezvous, and he watched Ryan in the side mirror of the car. He was playing a game Billy had downloaded onto the phone with the limited Wi-Fi at the motel, eating Cheetos and drinking a bottle of diet Coca-Cola. He’d insisted on the diet variety, telling Billy that they were the only sodas Becca ever got for them.

Billy hung the pump back up and headed to the driver’s seat again. They were only a few miles out from the park, and Mallory had sent him another text not ten minutes ago, telling him that they were there and ready.

They’d barely said anything to one another the entire drive. Billy found a decent station on the radio, and a few times Ryan had even known the songs they’d played. He sang along to the parts he could, and listened to the parts he couldn’t.

And it was okay. Not perfect, but okay. And even if every time he looked into Ryan’s eyes and saw Becca there, Billy found it gave him a sure sense of comfort even though it was shot through with a terrible grief. The kid would be alright. He’d go on to live somewhere safe, and he’d grow up knowing there were people there, standing right next to him.

Billy looked at Ryan, who glanced up from his game and beamed at him through a mouthful of soda, and he knew that wherever Becca was now, she’d be proud of her boys.

**Author's Note:**

> The song they listen to while dancing at their wedding is 'Time Goes By', which is, of course, by the Spice Girls. It is also the title inspiration for this fic.


End file.
